Starlight & Candlelight
by jancat10
Summary: When it came to the holidays, William Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet never quite fit into festive family traditions. That is, until they met each other and figured out how to fit the holidays around themselves. This story will make sense and mean a whole lot more if you first read parts one and two, which I posted here last year: Menorahs & Mistletoe and Frosting & Festivus.


From a young age, William Darcy had thought some things would never change. New Year's Eve was one of them. When the inevitable annual festivities rolled around, he'd cringe, show up where he was expected, and find a wall to hug. Expectations, inclinations, hopes and outcome invariably collided and missed hitting the target that the holiday's songs, movies and stories promised: a nice girl to kiss at midnight. Not that the garish traditions of New Year's Eve even celebrated the real New Year. _Oh no._ His grandmother had always reminded him that the _real_ new year was the one they celebrated on the Jewish calendar, Rosh Hoshanah. Hearing her words as a boy, he'd roll his eyes and go back to watching Dick Clark on TV in Times Square; when he grew older, he'd remember her words as he watched the mating rituals performed by fellow partygoers as midnight neared.

Tonight's party could have played out like the parties of previous years. Charles would be starry-eyed, fairly drunk, and happily kissing some true love; Caroline would be in hot pursuit of any man who arrived alone, dressed expensively and still had a full head of hair; and their mutual friends still would be comparing portfolios and best post-Christmas shopping bargains while sizing up potential mates for that seal-the-deal midnight kiss. And Will Darcy would find a reason to go play bartender or wander off to the bathroom as the countdown closed in.

Yes, except for the fact that Charles was engaged to Jane, the true love of his life, things appeared no different for Will. Here he was, hoping to escape the countdown cacophony, and determinedly inching his way toward the bathroom in the Hursts' townhouse. But there was one major difference this year: There was a woman he planned to kiss, and she was in that bathroom. _Poor Elizabeth. Was she hiding? Would Bill Collins never get the message that she was taken?_

Inviting William Darcy to go for a Christmas Eve walk a year ago had been the most brilliant impulse of Elizabeth Bennet's nearly 25 years on Earth. They'd looked at the stars, gazed at the lights and, dazzled, they'd found each other. Somehow the shabby, faded year-round Christmas decorations hanging on her parents' house had seemed less drab. That Christmas Day had sparkled because she knew that day would fade to night, and that by late afternoon, she would be heading across town to share leftovers and a bottle of wine with the man wearing a wry smile and a distinctly non-holiday sweater. The man who'd kissed her back, again and again, in Charles' building lobby. The man who she knew, deep-down in an unsettling but exciting way, would be kissing her forever. _Will._

The past year, and this holiday season, had not followed the traditional paths for either of them. Will hadn't spent Passover at the movies or Yom Kippur debating whether or not he should have gotten himself a seat in temple. Elizabeth hadn't rolled her eyes at her mother's marshmallow lamb cake for Easter dessert. Over the months, separate calendars and lives and beliefs had converged and by November, they had celebrated Thanksgivukkah at the Bennet dinner table.

The doorway had been festooned with blue and white lights; little plastic stars and dreidels dangled from the chandelier. A few rules had been put in place: Mr. Bennet had been adamant that brisket would not replace his beloved turkey and stuffing; the Bennet girls had demanded that eight days of little gifts would not supplant their giant expectations for December 25; and Mrs. Bennet, while taking control over the latke making, had made it clear that Elizabeth and William had to bring some traditional dishes from the Darcy family cookbook. Despite burned latkes and singed egos, it had been a wonderful day and prompted a request for the young couple to host a Seder dinner during Passover in the spring.

Over the past year, they'd also shared birthdays, Valentine's Day, Easter, Halloween, the Fourth of July, and just days ago, their second Festivus-tinged Christmas. And in about five minutes, Will planned to ask Elizabeth to share all of those holidays for the rest of their lives together. If only she'd come out of the bathroom. He knocked softly and called her name.

The door opened and there she was. His green-eyed girl. _Elizabeth._

"Hey you," she whispered. "Come here." She reached for his hand and gently pulled him into the bathroom.

It was dark; only flickering holiday candles lit his way in.

"It's the best view in the whole place," Elizabeth said softly, reaching behind Will to lock the door.

He smiled and looked out the window. She'd pulled up the shade and opened the sash. He pushed open the window and they leaned out, staring at the moon and stars above and the lights below, twinkling merrily; across the river lay Manhattan, glittering and beautiful. Silver and gold in the sky, red and green and blue and white below.

"Squint a bit," she said. And he did and the lights fused into a hazy kaleidoscope of colors.

"You're brilliant, my love." He kissed the top of her head.

"I know it's a bathroom in Brooklyn, but it doesn't matter to me where I get kissed at midnight." She blushed—he could see that much in a room lit only by candles and stars and holiday lights—and it melted his heart.

"Where? As long as it's your lips, right?" Will whispered.

"As long as it's just us." Elizabeth squeezed his hand, leaned her head against his chest, and gazed up at him. The happiest year of his life, all bound up in this woman. It scared him sometimes, how perfectly they fit together and merged their lives. It scared her as well. Both were just a little grateful to know that they could disagree, and that they could solve their arguments—all two of them so far— in the best way possible.

Elizabeth had moved in with him last summer, on a hot day without a breeze when his building's air conditioning was less than optimal. She'd made the mistake of listening to her sister's feng shui ideas and had begun rearranging all of the furniture in their newly merged household. Beds pointing east, chairs facing north… None of it made sense and he'd had a difficult time explaining his frustration. Just getting her furniture through the door and figuring out how to make her beloved blue-flowered armchair clash less with his brown leather sofa was work enough on a hot, humid day. A few badly stubbed toes, bruised shins and heated words later, a happy compromise was reached on their newly re-settled bed. Both had agreed they already had enough spiritual traditions between them, and they'd promised to finish every disagreement in just the same way—in bed.

Their pact held as their only other "argument" began, and ended, in bed. After Thanksgivukkah, they'd celebrated the remaining seven nights of lights with friends or alone together. On the final evening, Elizabeth had called Will and asked him to pick up Chinese food on the way home from work. She said she'd burned dinner. After they ate their mu shu and lit the final candle, Elizabeth had claimed a headache and asked Will to tuck her in. A bit worried about her behavior, he'd followed her to their bedroom. There, on the bed, paws flapping and ears twitching, slept his now best-ever Hanukkah gift. It had taken two days of silly back-and-forth discussions to come to a mutual decision on the dog's name: Sandy, in honor of the player whose autographed baseball sat on his desk.

Now, through the bathroom door, they could hear the countdown. "Five, four, three, two, one…"

There was no right place, no right time. There was only this. Here and now. Her. _Elizabeth._

They reached for each other and greeted another new year together. "Happy anniversary," she whispered. "Another year of holidays."

The ring stayed in Will's pocket. That was for tomorrow. Everything else was sparkling tonight. Elizabeth and her diamond would light up tomorrow, and shine on all their days to come.

~~%~~%~~

_I couldn't resist a bit of closure, and taking them all the way to their HEA. Happy New year to you and yours! _


End file.
